


Morning has broken

by Beezarre (Dibee)



Category: Holby City
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 16:11:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17563760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dibee/pseuds/Beezarre
Summary: “Barns are good.” Sometimes it’s a word, a taste, a thought… It doesn’t take much for Serena to be reminded of Bernie. She’s a wound time won’t heal. She hadn’t expected to bump into her at Albie’s, hadn’t expected to kiss her, or promise to meet that night. She won’t let herself hope, knows she’ll have to let Bernie go again. Or will she?For Weekly Berena Fix: Barn





	Morning has broken

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this fic to Daisydoctor13 for being amazing, having the best reactions to my fic pitches, and as an apology for all the Feels. Here, have some more ;)
> 
> This is much, much longer than I meant for it to be. I won't apologise though.
> 
> Warning: There are tears. Some of which might be yours by the end of this.

Some days were tougher than others. Sometimes it took her getting her second coffee from Pulses to remember all those she’d shared with Bernie, her medicinal pain au chocolat now tasting bitter. Sometimes she only spotted Cameron halfway through the day.

 

More often than not the tidiness of the office reminded her of times long gone when she had to send a couple pointed stares at the person sitting opposite her so her side of the desk was fully operational. It just wasn’t the same with Ric. And she never left a space on the side of her desk for him to sit on, either. She’d bite his head off if he tried, or joke about ageing bones. Some parts of her life were now off limit.

 

Serena knew the day would be a long one when the words rang just as she locked her front door.

“Look at the mess you’ve left in the car! Were you raised in a barn?” The neighbour’s high pitched voice seemed to drill into her ears more than usual that morning.

 

“Barns are good.” She could almost see it, see the pride on Bernie’s face as she’d suggested country living to the broadband outfitter. Her breath caught in her throat and she had to take an extra second to steady herself and carry on. She reached for her pendant and froze.

 

Ever since Bernie had been gone, really gone, ever since they’d split up, that pendant had felt incredibly heavy. Its choice was a way of honouring Elinor’s memory, keeping her spirit close by, her old necklace safely tucked within reach in her bedside table. Bernie had helped. Bernie had helped her through her grief, had helped her find coping mechanisms, had helped her realise she needed to be more reasonable with wine, an understatement. And she’d help her choose.

 

She hadn’t made the choice for her, it wasn’t like her, Bernie was a giving person at heart. She’d given her everything, was ready to give more than she could bear for her, and Serena couldn’t have taken it from her. But now the pendant seemed to burn into her skin, and every time she reached for it Bernie’s smile was dancing at the edge of her mind, her solid, comforting presence almost palpable. She missed her. She missed her, and she felt like the whole world knew.

 

First, there was Jason. His looks of concern were hardly concealed. Ric, Sacha, Henrik, all of them seemed to be extra careful around her despite having to deal with their own burdens. Greta was always focused on her daughter, or Jason when he was there, but whenever she looked up and met Serena’s eyes there was a sadness there that made Serena’s heart clench.

 

Having Cameron around didn’t help. He had his mother’s spirit, and some of her habits, too. She’d bumped into Charlotte in town a couple times, had exchanged a few words, but it had been uncomfortable. The second time, as they were about to part, Charlotte had launched herself at her in a typical Wolfe hug, and held for a few seconds, not long enough for Serena to react appropriately, before letting go and walking away. She had inherited her mother’s communication issues. Or maybe Serena wasn’t good at Wolfe taming.

 

That was the thing, though. She had never meant to tame them, never meant to tame Bernie, or her children. She liked Bernie’s wild side, liked her strength, her spirit, her humour, her smile, her eyes, her… She stopped her thoughts short, she wasn’t going to get into that again.

 

Climbing into the car instead, she turned on the radio, hoping for some distracting news story, only for the radio to skip stations and land on a song she and Bernie had danced on, one afternoon. She couldn’t even remember how it had started, Bernie wasn’t too good with rhythm for someone who’d been in the military, or maybe she’d done it on purpose just so she could bump into her. It was in France, the little bubble that burst too quickly.

 

They’d been happy there, almost carefree, learning to love again. How she’d loved her, and how loved she’d felt. She’d felt alive for the first time in months, not just because Bernie loved her, but because Bernie made her love life again. She made her look forward, made her envision a future she’d forgotten she had. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the first step toward feeling like herself again, even if who she was now wasn’t who she had once been. She’d learned to love the woman she’d become, and she wasn’t sure she could have managed that without Bernie.

 

She’d made a habit of no longer driving past that restaurant they’d gone to. In a way, they’d had their first date there, that evening before Bernie left for Kiev. Because that’s what it had been, really. She couldn’t quite say when things had shifted, for her. It wasn’t for lack of having thought about it. Before the kiss, and long after.

 

She remembered telling Bernie she recognised the symptoms. In retrospect they’d been there long before Bernie had lunged toward her in theatre that day. She had not, at any point, wanted to push her away. She’d made her life a little better, dancing in her orbit until she was a constant. She wasn’t a satellite, she was a star, shining too bright for her, her warmth oh so welcome.

 

She jumped as the car behind her honked, looking up at the green light and sighing. Her new route took a whole extra ten minutes, and it hadn’t really helped, other than take ten minutes of sleep away. She was already not sleeping that well. She’d steered clear of lavender pillows this time.

 

It felt like she was still there, sometimes. Although she hadn’t lived in the house permanently at any point, there had always been little signs, even when she was in Nairobi. Slippers… Yes, those slippers she could have used to take the bins out, though whenever she did Bernie usually wore shoes. Why was she remembering this now?

 

There was nothing of Bernie’s left, nothing she’d found, though she hadn’t looked for it either. Finding something meant giving it back. Giving it back meant no longer having it, giving a part of her away, and contacting her, or her children, in that context again…

 

The first thick droplets of rain started crashing on her windshield and she looked up, spotting a large dark cloud hovering over the city. Even the weather was in tune with her feelings.

 

As the hospital grew nearer she started steeling herself. It was getting harder, somehow. She’d hoped it’d be easier, but… She arrived at Pulses early enough that the queue was a reasonable length, she’d have time to both order and drink her coffee before her shift. She’d parked close enough to the hospital to avoid the downpour, but winced sympathetically at the people coming in fresh out of the shower.

 

“Strong and hot, just like you like it.” The young man had been manning the till for a while now, and she had somehow accrued a reputation. The words rang painfully familiar and she smiled, although not as joyfully as she would normally have managed. She missed strong and hot. No coffee could match her big macho army medic.

 

She took the first sip, almost burning herself, her heart missing a beat. She felt like she’d smelled her perfume. She’d never paid attention to its name, she rarely smelled it, never like that, but it was always a bit of a shock. Her day really was off to a bad start. She thought she heard someone call her name, thought it was her voice, and gulped down a couple mouthful of coffee in an effort to centre herself again. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Serena.”

 

This time she hadn’t dreamt it. She turned around, felt something break in her when she realised the memories she’d been reliving all this time had somehow tainted her beauty and strength.

 

“B-Bernie.”

 

“Hi.” Now that they were face to face, Bernie seemed to have lost track of what she had meant to say. She looked uncomfortable, of course she’d be. She was probably not there for her, maybe Cameron.

 

Who it was didn’t matter. She couldn’t get in her way. But there was something in her eyes, a softness that hid behind that fringe she so liked to brush away that made something in her crumble. There was a pause, a hesitation, then Serena put down her coffee on the table she hadn’t realised was next to her, and did the only thing that felt right.

 

She’d learned a lot from Bernie, not the least of which that, sometimes, impromptu demonstrations of love and care were the best course of action. If Bernie saw her coming she didn’t stop her. Serena took a step forward, almost on tiptoes because that devilish woman had managed to make herself taller still with heels that did things to her legs that Serena was pretty sure were illegal in several countries.

 

It took almost no time at all for Bernie to respond to the kiss. Serena had meant for it to be sweet and short, or maybe a little deeper and lasting. She hadn’t foreseen passionate and long, waking the dying butterflies in her stomach and lighting her skin on fire where Bernie touched her. They broke up for air only to start again, desperate, hanging onto each other like a lifeline. She could feel the eyes on them, knew the entire hospital would know before she reached the ward. She’d deal with them later.

 

When they stopped, out of breath, forehead to forehead, there were questions in their eyes, some of them similar, some not. This wasn’t what they’d planned. This wasn’t how they’d parted. Serena wasn’t sure she could let her go.

 

 

“Mum.” She heard Cameron’s voice behind her, could almost hear the eyebrow he’d raised.

 

“I’ve got to go.” Bernie’s voice, raw, almost desperate, tore at her heart strings.

 

“Come see me, tonight?” Serena had whispered, maybe a little too loudly, stepping into her space again. Bernie had nodded, a frank nod Serena hoped she could rely on, before walking away. Serena’s eyes followed her until Cameron shot her a look of warning. She’d have to talk to him. Later. Now all she needed was some time to herself and a good think.

 

Checking her watch, she decided the rumour mill could buy her five more minutes and headed for the roof. She wasn’t entirely surprised to find Sacha there, staring in the distance.

 

“Mind if I sit by you?” Sacha looked up and frowned.

 

“Have the lights gone out in your bathroom?” There was a legitimate air of concern to his whole behaviour. Serena took out a small mirror from her purse and sighed. Her hair was a mess, and her lipstick was past touching up. “Tough day?”

 

“It’s only 8am.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

They shared a knowing look, sighing at the same time and sharing a quick laugh.

“Want to talk about it?” Serena had a feeling Sacha had more of a need to talk than she did, but knew better than to press.

 

“Bernie showed up, looking for Cameron I guess.”

 

“First time seeing her since the wedding?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And?”

 

“And I snogged her in the middle of the hall.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Did she kiss you back?”

 

“Yeah, that’s kind of a problem.”

 

“How is that a problem?”

 

“Because now I have to let her go again.” Serena’s voice broke as she voiced what had been nagging at her. That was the hardest thing about having Bernie so close again, within reach, tasting the chocolate and honeycomb and coffee, the perfect mix to wake up to, or so she used to think.

 

“Are you going to see her?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Maybe as in you don’t have a plan, or maybe as in you have a plan and you’re not sure which of you is most likely to chicken out.”

 

She looked up and straight at him. There was nothing but friendliness on his face, no judgement, just weariness and a cheer that felt good to see.

 

“Maybe as in maybe tonight.”

 

“So maybe as in you’ll be checking your watch every ten minutes and curse anything that might make you late, while at the same time dread she might not come.”

 

“That kind of maybe.”

 

“That’s a tough kind of maybe.”

 

“I’ve had worse.”

 

“Just because you’ve had worse doesn’t mean you deserve to hurt.” Coming from him, she knew the words meant a lot. He got it.

 

“I believe that pain is partly self-inflicted.”

 

“Which is even worse.”

 

“What would you advise, then?”

 

“Talk?”

 

They hadn’t even managed to talk. If their evening went like their short encounter had, they’d end up in bed before they’d even exchanged greetings. And things would get even more complicated. But if it meant one more night in her arms, Serena felt she was ready to sacrifice the following ones.

 

“Earth to Serena?” Sacha could clearly tell she was lost in thought, but again there was nothing but friendliness in his reminder of his presence.

 

“I’m in too deep.” Sacha laughed at her words.

 

“Serena, you’ve been in too deep from the moment you met.” His smile was frank, possibly larger than she’d seen it of late. “However long you might have… make the most of it. Do…” he paused, pained. “Do everything as if it was the last time. Because it might be. This way you’ll have no regrets.”

 

He got up and walked away with half a wave, leaving Serena to stare at her now lukewarm coffee. She downed it and ducked in the first bathroom on her way down. It was going to be a tough day, and a tougher night still. At least she had the next day off if she needed to cry herself to sleep. She refused to imagine spending the day with Bernie. She couldn’t let herself hope like that.

 

She only had time to leave her purse and coat in her office before being called into theatre. She was thankful for the distraction, although she couldn’t shake the pang of guilt she felt at the relief that someone was in dire enough a state to be needing emergency surgery to that extent.

 

She wasn’t sure whether to thank a guardian angel she didn’t believe in or Sacha for the constant flux of patients coming her way. She had barely set foot out of theatre all day, and by the time she got out it was 4pm and she hadn’t had a bite to eat in long enough that she welcomed the biscuits one of the nurses have lovingly baked earlier that week. Baking was clearly not that nurse’s utmost skill, and she feared for her teeth, but when dunk in coffee the biscuits were palatable. She took the time to breathe, jumping when someone walked in the break room.

 

“Hiding, are we?”

 

Ric. She should have known.

 

“Having lunch.” She turned around, readying herself for what she had a feeling would be quite a face off. He had a smile on, the kind of near-grin that meant he thought he had her cornered, and would tease her to death. In this instance, she might just welcome death.

 

“Hungry?”

 

“Starving.”

 

“Are you?” She realised too late as he grinned a little bit more than he was about to add something about wolves and appetite but was saved by the bell. Alexander Graham, in this instance, as the phone announced more theatre in their near future. She somehow managed to avoid being in the same room as her well meaning but aggravating friend for more than just ward business and went back to blood and how to stop it from flowing in the wrong place.

 

Two operations later, it was 6.30 and she managed to duck out of theatre straight into her office without anyone noticing or needing her. She sat down with a sigh, glared at the pile of paperwork in front of her and picked up her pen. She mentally gave herself half an hour. She doubted her brain could handle that much, or that the ward wouldn’t need her in the meantime, but a girl can dream.

 

Two metaphorical fires and some unnecessary admin later, she was putting on her coat, and it had never been that heavy. Something was stranding her there, in hospital. Over the last few months her house had been her refuge, and now this was her den. She noticed Ric loitering around and managed to duck out, waving at a concerned Donna.

 

She slowed down until she got to her car and remained seated there, looking into the distance. She could go home now. Bernie could be there. Or maybe she’d come later. Or not at all. What if she did? What then? What if she didn’t? All the doubts she had avoided all day were coming back and she gripped the wheel with more force than truly necessary.

 

The winter days hadn’t quite managed to lengthen yet, and the street lights had gone off on one side, making the ordinary street look somewhat shifty. She parked in her drive, taking a deep breath before getting out, fishing out her keys almost automatically. She almost dropped them the next second.

 

 Bernie was there, leaning against the wall. She’d been waiting for her. In the dark, in the shadow of the house that once had been her home, in a way. How long had she been there? Why hadn’t she waited in her car? She knew Bernie had sold her car, she probably drove a rental which explained why she hadn’t spotted it.

 

“Hello again.” Bernie’s voice was low, almost a whisper. She didn’t move. Serena thought she saw tension in her shoulders, but it was hard to tell.

 

“Hey.”

 

Serena stepped forward, stopping at a reasonable distance. Bernie moved forward from her lean more elegantly than she had a right to, and they were close. Not as close as they had been in the morning, but close enough now to be able to read the other’s face. She saw the same thing in Bernie’s eyes as she know were in hers. Longing, regret, love, caring, so much caring it hurt. How could a single human care so much? There was passion too, maybe a bit of lust, or maybe she was just projecting. She saw Bernie’s eyes dip to her lips. She hadn’t imagined the lust.

 

This time she let Bernie initiate it, moaning when she felt her lips brush past hers. The woman had always been a tease but now was not the time. They danced around one another until Serena’s back hit the door gently. With Bernie’s arms around her she was trapped there, yet still free to go if she wanted to. When Bernie kissed her again she was really, really grateful for how dark it was.

 

She knew what they were doing was a bad idea, knew that every kiss, every touch, was one step in the wrong direction. She knew, too, that they needed that. A goodbye that felt like bliss was better than what they’d allowed themselves after Jason’s wedding. That’s what she kept telling herself as she unlocked the door, kicked her shoes and threw her coat in the general direction of the coat rack. She heard it crumble but took no notice. Bernie was mirroring her, and this time it was Serena’s turn to pin her to the wall. They needed to talk. Not now, not like that, but she needed to be sure they wanted the same thing.

 

“Just tonight.”

 

“Just tonight.” There was pain in Bernie’s voice, the same as in hers, she suspected.

 

“Then take me to bed.”

 

She had half expected Bernie to carry her there, but was content with feeling her hands on her skin, sneaking under her top. God, she had missed this.

 

She hadn’t turned on the light downstairs, wasn’t sure what to do when they reached the bedroom. Could they really face one another like that? Bernie took the decision for her as she trailed kisses along her neck, making her forget about lights entirely. They didn’t need to see the other’s body, they knew it too well already.

 

Serena wasn’t sure what she wanted, slow and tender, passionate and messy… It ended up being a mix of it all, throwing themselves in only to slow down and slide into a comfortable rhythm that felt so right it almost brought tears to her eyes. She’d missed this. Not the sex. Well not just the sex.

 

While they’d always had trouble communicating, actions were a whole other matter. She would never tire of feeling Bernie’s gentle touch turn skilfully firm, running her fingers through her hair, tugging lightly when Bernie found the perfect angle and teased her. That was the thing about Bernie, she liked to take her time when she could. She’d taken the habit, whenever possible, to build her up so that she didn’t need to push, in the end. Serena would just slip, closer and closer, relax, tense and try to stifle a cry, which she never quite managed, not when Bernie was looking at her like that.

 

There was more intensity in her eyes than there ever had been. They hadn’t said a word, other than each other’s names, but every touch and hitched breath felt like a declaration of love. This wasn’t what they’d signed up for, but they couldn’t stop.

 

Serena was out of breath, gripping the sheets with one hand, an arm keeping Bernie close. Bernie was all but wrapped around her, and she never wanted to let her go. She did, however, want to make her come again. It would prove challenging without moving though. She pushed Bernie away and felt her tense, gently nibbling at her neck so she knew what she had in mind.

 

Something Serena had discovered pretty early in their relationship was just how sensitive Bernie could be. Making her last was a challenge she had always loved to take on. She didn’t just want her to last, want it all to last, she wanted to commit it to memory. If this was all they had, then Sacha had a point, they had to make the best of it.

 

Bernie was still feisty, looking for an angle to switch positions, and Serena wouldn’t let her. She did like her big macho army medic in bed, but what she was trying to achieve was the boneless puppy who’d curl up and hold her until they fell asleep. That was all she could take, physically and mentally. She’s let them both have that.

 

She wanted to make a point, wanted to draw it out, wanted to make it memorable for Bernie too. She felt Bernie stop fighting, kissed the inside of her thighs and felt her open her legs. She was giving in. She’d always loved just how offered Bernie could be in those moments, how much trust she put in her. Now it felt undeserved.

 

She felt more than she heard a sharp intake of breath when she started tracing patterns on her thighs with her tongue. She had spelled words there in the past. I love you. Don’t go. Mine. Delicious. Now she felt like she didn’t have the right anymore. Bernie was squirming and probably not paying that much attention to the exact patterns anyway.

 

She signed her name, not spelling it but actually signing it, like a letter in a bottle she could throw in the sea of her tears.

 

She felt Bernie move and tensed, but relaxed when she just repositioned herself so she could play with her hair. This wasn’t going the way she’d planned. She had barely touched her when she heard Bernie say her name. She had extended her hand, propping herself up on one elbow. She followed until they both had a leg between the other’s.

 

She felt Bernie’s lips trail from her ear to her lips, felt their lips crash and forgot about anything else. Bernie was right. This was the way to go. Tangled, hands slipping downwards, holding each other, Bernie’s mouth on her pulse point, hers chanting her name. She might never get the opportunity to say it to her again, not like this. She needed to make the most of that, too.

 

She knew it would be quick, knew neither of them could hold on. Bernie claimed her lips again as Serena started biting hers. For a moment it was just them, exploding stars on the verge of a black hole. When those lights went out, Serena clung to Bernie as she felt sleep creeping on her. She wanted to feel her close, and wanted to feel her leave. She wanted to be there when she left, if only to remind herself that it hadn’t all been a dream. She felt Bernie kiss the side of her head just as she drifted off.

 

 

 

 

She wasn’t sure what woke her up. It wasn’t her phone, so that was a relief. She was pretty sure it wasn’t Bernie’s either. Maybe a car alarm in the street, or just life itself. She could barely see her, but Bernie was still there, deeply asleep, in her arms, all around her, the puppy turned octopus, long limbs keeping her close. She was tempted to run a hand through her hair but was afraid to wake her. Like this, she could get just a little bit longer, just a little bit more of them.

 

She fought against the sleep that tried to take her back. She’d slept better than she had in weeks, rather unsurprisingly. She felt Bernie stir, could tell her eyes were open but she didn’t move, if anything she seemed to hold her a little closer. They didn’t say anything, Serena moving so her head would be on her shoulder again, Bernie holding her, her hands running up and down her back slowly.

 

Serena had wanted to talk about her, about them, for a very long time, needed to out all the feelings that were outpouring, but the only friend close enough, the only friend she’d trust with this was Bernie, and she couldn’t let her see the pain. She just couldn’t.

 

Teeth clenched, she tried to fight the tears coming to her eyes. She didn’t want her to go, knew she had no right to ask her to stay, knew she probably shouldn’t, for both their sakes. And Bernie was probably there for a reason, had things to do, people to see. She had no idea when she’d be leaving again, no idea when or if they’d see each other again.

 

She let go, knew she wouldn’t be able to hold the flood much longer. She’d be selfish, one last time, and let Bernie hold her through the sobs she felt wracking her body. Bernie was probably the best thing that had happened to her in the past few years, and letting her go, again, was too much. It got worse when she felt tears on her shoulder. Those weren’t her own. She held onto Bernie, tighter.

 

That wasn’t what she’d wanted them to share, but in that moment Serena knew she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t had the chance to really talk about it. Talking about things had never been her forte, but this…

 

As her own tears got more manageable, she turned her head slightly to kiss Bernie’s neck, eliciting a slight hum, then a short moan until Bernie looked at her. The light was somewhat better now, even through foggy eyes. She had rarely seen Bernie cry, and it had always broken her heart beyond belief. Knowing she was responsible was even worse.

 

“When do you have to go?” The when was important, and hurt almost as much as Bernie’s tears.

 

Bernie just shrugged. Whether she didn’t want to answer or couldn’t just yet, Serena wasn’t sure. It wasn’t that early though. Serena had the day off, but she had no idea what Bernie was up to. Did she know what time it was?

 

“Charlotte cancelled today, I’ll see her tomorrow. Cam said he’ll call me, but I doubt he’ll call before tomorrow.”

 

“Work?”

 

Bernie pouted.

 

“Everywhere I’m supposed to be working needs to be repaired or cleaned in some way. I’m on leave until further notice. Apparently I make the other surgeons nervous when I thread in their domain.” Serena frowned. “You didn’t hear? The burst pipe? The whole section where the trauma unit is just… flooded, luckily there was no one there, but the adjoining ward is unusable, a third of the theatres are out of order, and half my staff is off sick after either twisting or breaking something.” Serena frowned a bit more. “It made the headlines.”

 

Something was swimming at the edge of Serena’s mind. Something important. Something… It suddenly dawned on her. Of course she’d heard about it! Except it wasn’t Kenya! It was in London! She remembered hearing about the trauma unit, having wondered how Bernie would have handled it. Well, she had handled it. She was in the country. She hadn’t gone back. Had they not wanted her back? Had Serena ruined her dream job? Or had she not wanted to? Questions were reeling in her head and Bernie clearly noticed.

 

“You… you didn’t know I was still in the country, did you?” Bernie’s voice had gotten soft, the kind Serena had long since given up on resisting.

 

“No, I…”

 

“I thought Cameron had told you.”

 

“He hadn’t.”

 

“I see.” There was a beat of silence, and now being this close felt… awkward. Bernie was in the country. Was London her dream job? “To be honest I’m kind of relieved, at least we might end up with a better setup. It couldn’t possibly be worse as it is. I’ve had to MacGyver one patient too many. Even the back of a jeep was more promising.” She was mumbling now. Clearly not her dream job then.

 

“Why London?”

 

“It was that or Scotland.”

 

“Then why not Scotland?”

 

“Further away from the kids. Though right now I am reconsidering.”

 

“Well, at least up there the water falls from the sky, not the ceiling.” She felt Bernie start to laugh and laughed alongside her until their foreheads were touching.

 

“I miss you.” Bernie’s words hit her hard.

 

“I miss you too.”

 

“I miss us.” Bernie’s voice had caught, and Serena felt her tears coming back. She kissed Bernie, just to shut her up. She didn’t need to say all this out loud. Now was not the time to start communicating. Or maybe it was, but she wasn’t ready to hear what Bernie had to say. Wasn’t ready to hope if it was going to be crushed minutes later.

 

“I don’t want to go.” Bernie’s words had been a mere whisper against her lips, there were tears in her eyes and she wasn’t even looking at her. *I don’t want you to go.* That was what Serena yearned to say. She couldn’t. She couldn’t hold her back. Or maybe just for a little while.

 

Bernie’s words, from what felt like another life, echoed in her head. “That’s what you don’t want.” What did Bernie really want? She had closed her eyes now, fighting against the tears, jaw clenched. Serena kissed her forehead and heard a small sob.

 

“I’m sorry.” Bernie’s voice was tearing through her. She felt tears escape her eyes and run down her cheek onto the pillow.

 

“I love you.” Serena wasn’t sure why she’d let the words pass her lips, wasn’t sure they had until she saw Bernie open her eyes, hating herself for the flicker of hope she saw there. She saw Bernie’s lips move but didn’t hear the words. She tried to encourage her to speak up without asking her, and it took a while for her to brace herself and say it. “That’s all I need.”

 

“Bernie….” She couldn’t do long distance, not again, even if they were in the same country, in the same timezone. If they were going to do this, she needed them to do it together. She couldn’t live with a ghost again. But it was an if again.

 

“I really am thinking of leaving London. Cameron is back here, Charlotte… Charlotte is leading her own life, but that’s where home is. I’m getting a bit old for adventurous stuff.” She paused. “And I don’t want to hide who I am. I’ve done that for too long.”

 

That was something Serena had never had to grapple with, and something Bernie rarely talked about, but she understood to some extant what Bernie was trying to say. Bernie seemed to hesitate before adding something.

 

“The hospital is still looking for someone to deal with the disaster project they call trauma unit downstairs. St James would probably be interested in someone with my skills, too. I mean I’d rather work in the same hospital as you and Cam than Marcus, but if it meant…”

 

There was hope. She’d never ask her to work with her ex though. Especially since she might end up working with both their exes, and that would not be pleasant. Could it work though? She wanted it to work. She wanted to make it work.

 

“I’ll deal with the bins. And take turns with the swing, if you’ll let me.” That conversation was still etched in both their brains. There was so much about it that had kept them both awake.

 

“We can push the swing together.”

 

“I think I have the edge in that department.” There was something cheeky in her tone, a reminder of that one patient with the tap in an unfortunate place.

 

“It’s not a competition.”

 

“We’ll see what little Guinevere has to say about it.”

 

The thought of Guinevere and Bernie together was the last straw.

 

“Bernie.” It sounded like a warning and Bernie tensed.

 

“We’ll have to find ways to… communicate.”

 

“I agree.” Bernie paused. “Less bullet lists, more talking.”

 

“Uhum.” Serena squinted suspiciously. “Not all of which in bed.” Bernie pouted. “And maybe limited public displays of affection on hospital grounds.”

 

“Hey! You’re the one who snogged me in the hallway!”

 

“I didn’t see you complain!”

 

“Well you’ve always been a good kisser!”

 

Now Bernie had relaxed, tilting her head on the pillow, the soft puppy look Serena loved so much well set on her features.

 

“We have to make this work.” Bernie nodded. “I can’t… I can’t handle…”

 

“Neither can I.”

 

“Breakfast?” Serena’s offer was met with a soft smile and a nod. Serena extricated herself from Bernie’s embrace, with no help from her now partner whatsoever, and reached for her robe, tying it around herself and shivering, letting Bernie wrap herself in the small throw she kept on the chair by the window for cold nights, holding it like a cape. It made Serena shake her head and she went to the bathroom to retrieve a bathrobe for her to wear.

 

“You’re impossible when you’re sick.” Bernie’s mock shock made her smile and Bernie stepped closer to steal a kiss. “Come on you, breakfast is this way.” Bernie pouted but followed, closer than she usually would have been. She knew where everything was, still, and they worked in a kind of familiar ballet, like Bernie had never left. She was barefoot though.

 

She’d have to get her slippers. For the bins. And everything else. Maybe as a sign of their life together.

 

It wasn’t set in stone, of course, Bernie was still tied to London, it would take a while for them to actually make a life together, here, but for now she was content with what she had. She felt Bernie loop her arms around her waist from behind and drop a kiss on top of her head. Serena knew their height difference wasn’t enough so she must have been on tiptoes. How on Earth had she fallen for someone so ridiculous. What had she done to deserve so much love and loyalty?

 

There would be time to finish long overdue talks. They’d have to go over Leah and everything that had unleashed. They’d have to talk about family, and what it meant to them. They’ve have to talk about the bins schedule. They’d have to talk about work, and keeping things confined to theatre, well, maybe not quite. They’d have to talk about everything she’d missed at the hospital, everything Nairobi had brought to Bernie. They’d have to talk about that damn contractor who’d messed up the pipes down in London, and maybe thank him.

 

But mostly they’d have to talk about themselves, open up in more than actions. It’d be hard, there’d be more tears, but it would be worth it if it meant waking up every morning next to each other for the rest of their lives. Well, most mornings given their line of work. Most mornings were enough.

 

 


End file.
